The Boy From The Fire
by Uzumaki111
Summary: Hashirama Senju finds himself suddenly in the care of a young child. But not just any child, the boy is from the Uchiha clan. Short story.
1. Chapter 1

Dressed in a simple dark-red yukata with a black obi, along with weathered geta sandals, Hashirama was on one of his leisurely strolls through the countryside, moving in slow, easy strides across the grasslands of the Fire Country. The sky was bright, clear and sunny. The air was crisp and warm and he felt at peace, away from the bloodshed that characterized the life of a shinobi.

He walked along, his feet swathed by tall flimsy grasses, his face caressed by a soft breeze and his tresses swaying in the wind, until he reached a short, bent tree, sat on the ground and rested his head against its gnarled bark. Hashirama shut his eyes, and inhaled deeply, exhaling a moment later and feeling his whole body relieved of stress.

"Sir..." muttered a small, soft voice.

Hashirama started, leaped to his feet and began to knead chakra. He relaxed his guard when he sensed that the only other source of chakra in the immediate vicinity was a weak, feeble one on the other side of the tree. He rounded the trunk and saw, sprawled on the grass, a small boy covered in grime and dirt. His feet were blistered, his attire was a threadbare kimono of faded red color and his hair was a short, messy raven black.

"Sir...please...food..." the boy whispered once more, turning wide, desperate eyes on Hashirama's face. There were small cuts all over the childs face and a swollen bruise on his cheek.

Hashirama, moved with pity, collapsed beside the child and extracted a meal of rice balls from his pouch. "Here, eat."

The boy devoured the meal hungrily, savagely, and quickly. He turned to Hashirama with dark eyes pleading for more even as his tongue lashed about his lips to capture any morsel that might have stained his face-and stain they did! The Senju shook his head sympathetically as he also provided a canister of water which the child gulped like his life depended on it. Hashirama set about healing the child's wounds. Under the care of the world's greatest medic, the minor injuries were treated in seconds. The little boy gazed, amazed and confused, at Hashirama upon discovering how quickly the pain went away-there wasn't even any scarring.

"Thank you, er-"

"It's Hashirama. Call me Hashirama." the Senju interjected with a tender smile.

"Ok, Hashirama-san! I'm Nezumi! Uchiha Nezumi!"

The surname sank into Hashirama's chest like a blade.

Tobirama was frowning. This in and of itself was nothing special; Tobirama almost always frowned, at unruly underlings, at deadly enemy shinobi(especially Uchiha), but most of the time, Hashirama's abject stupidity, as the white-haired shinobi like to put it, was the cause of the perpetual scowl that marred his rather handsome features.

His elder brother's frown-prompting behavior found its origin in their childhood and so it had became something of the norm. So, when Hashirama rushed back to the clan quarters from one of his walks, burst into Tobirama's room and asked his little brother to follow him as he wanted to 'show him something cool!', Tobirama didn't wait until the thing itself was revealed but scowled even before he put on his sandals and went off with his elder brother.

When he finally saw the object of Hashirama's excitement, his scowl deepened and he cursed himself for having not brought along his sword. The child was young, weak and feeble, but Tobirama could definitely identify the chakra of that clan anywhere.

"Why did you want me to see this Uchiha stripling? Could it be that you wanted to award me the special honor of ending the enemy child's life? I'm not particular fond of killing children, brother. I mean, I can do it when it's necessary, of course, but-"

"No, no, no, no, no!" thundered Hashirama, glaring angrily at his little brother. "Nobody would be killing Nezumi."

The child in question was cowering behind the skirt of Hashirama's yukata in fear upon hearing the words 'ending the enemy child's life.' "Please, Hashirama-san! Save me!" the lad was shrieking earnestly.

Tobirama's scowl deepened even more and his face darkened.

"Like always, you are horribly mistaken, brother." said Tobirama as he folded his hands, which were exposed by the plain sleeveless dark shirt he wore along with white hakama trousers and brown sandals. "Nezumi, as you call him, would die if not by my hand but by the hand of Father, or any other warrior of our clan. You know how greatly our kin despise the Uchiha."

"What if we return him to the Uchiha?"

"He's probably an orphan. You know their Mangekyo craze. His eyes will be ripped out of their sockets and transplanted to someone else in no time. Then he'll be blind and die of hunger." said Tobirama dismissively.

Hashirama persisted. "What if we take him somewhere else?"

"And who would take him in?" asked Tobirama in a mocking tone. "Things are hard enough as it is. Times are tough. Nobody would be willing to adopt him. "

"I'll pay for his upkeep. All they'll have to do is put a roof over his head."

"Even if it was an option. Do you really want to put someone with the potential to awaken the Sharingan and the Uchiha's curse among civilians. He'll either grow up to be a tyrant lording over the common people-"

"Or a protector and a hero." interjected Hashirama.

"OR," continued Tobirama, ignoring Hashirama's interruption, "other clans will hear about this unguarded Uchiha and steal his eyes. Sharingan are a precious commodity these days."

"We'll keep it a secret. Nobody has to know he's an Uchiha."

"No secret is kept hidden forever, Hashirama. One day, this boy will be found out and hunted."

Hashirama was silent. His head was sunken and his brows knitted. Tobirama massaged his temples in annoyance, stole an apathetic glance at Nezumi-something that froze the blood of the child-and begun staring off into space.

"There's only one other option." said Hashirama with resolution and a mischievous smile on his face.

"And what is that, brother?" inquired Tobirama with a single brow quirked.

"I'll have to adopt him myself."

Tobirama barely managed to stop himself from breaking out into raucous, roaring laughter. Young Nezumi grinned widely at this prospect.

"And how are you going to get Father to agree to this?"

"Oh, I'm very persuasive."

"You're an idiot."

To Be Continued.


	2. Chapter 2

"We cannot, absolutely CANNOT, let an Uchiha stand among us!"

"They killed two of my sons! I can't stand the sight of them. This is an outrage!"

"How dare you?! How dare you even suggest it, Hashirama?! You're a disgrace to your own clan!"

The setting was a large hall with a wooden ceiling and wooden floor covered in mats. There were broad paper-paneled walls pierced by small, open windows. In the center of the room was a long, oaken table atop which rested a lamp, and around which about fifteen shinobi were seated.

The lantern threw a dull, lurid light on their grim, scowling faces, murder and fury blazing in their eyes and their nostrils flared. The air was tense and stifling with discord; jaws were set, teeth grinding, blood boiling, veins throbbing and hatred was lurking. A great clamor rose and carried to the other surrounding buildings in the Senju clan quarters and it was all because of young Nezumi Uchiha.

At the head of the table, three people were seated; Tobirama on the left corner, Hashirama on the right, and in the middle, an aged, wrinkled, lean man with grizzled long hair, a full, grey-flecked beard, drooping, sunken eyes which were very placid and narrowed. His head was lowered and his wiry, old frame was wrapped in a full length white kimono. He was Butsuma Senju, leader of the Senju clan and father of Tobirama and Hashirama. Like his sons and unlike everybody else in the room, he was perfectly quiet, and unfazed by the shouts and cries of his angry clansmen.

Tobirama furrowed his brows and looked about him in annoyance. He wasn't particularly a fan of the Uchiha but this was just excessive! Simply for a young child? Growing tired of the tirade, he jumped to his feet and cleared his throat. "Settle down, settle down, my brothers and sisters. We gathered here to talk-"

"Silence, you insolent brat!" cried one of the Senju present, a fuming, bearded old man in green armor, whose tiny, beady black eyes were scrunched up in a scowl which deepened all his wrinkles. "What do you know about the Senju, you little-"

"BE QUIET!" roared Hashirama, leaping to his feet and running his eyes through the faces of his kin. Chakra was pouring, or rather flooding, out of him in ominous, bloodcurdling torrents, and his hair was dancing about violently. The floor was quaking under their feet, the table before them snapped and broke into two as a result of his power, the lamp fell to the ground but was still in good condition, paper panelled walls began to crumble and the faces of the Senju men were white with dread and horror. Only Tobirama and Butsuma looked unruffled.

"Hypocrites! All of you!" thundered Hashirama, his face red with emotion, his brows furrowed in anger and his chest rising and falling in heavy breaths. The Senju's entire body was aquiver with wrath. "The Senju chose love? Really? So, this is the love which the legends spoke of? The love that our ancestor believed would bring peace? You are a disgrace to your bloodline! Scoundrels! Vipers! Evil! Heartless! All of you! You would abandon a helpless, innocent child simply because he is an Uchiha?! You are not Senju! None of you are even really human as far as I'm concerned!"

At his last words, a wooden beam from the ceiling fell and nearly crushed one of the men present. Luckily, he was able to leap out of the way. It was then that Tobirama decided that things were getting too out of hand, and gently placed a placating hand on his brother's shoulder, doing his best not to recoil in fear at the waves of chakra pulsing out of him. "Settle down, Hashirama!"

Tobirama's elder brother drew several slow, long breaths, the cloud of chakra that had filled the room like a mighty wind dissipating by the second until it was no more, and then Hashirama seated himself. Tobirama turned to the rest, who were still working to regain their composure and still their pounding hearts. They were still rather pale and trembling when the white-haired Senju began:

"As my brother has said, we need to show the love that our ancestors taught us. Besides, if we were to train an Uchiha with the Senju ways, there's no doubt that the result would be a very powerful ninja. Nezumi can become two things under the right instruction; a beacon of hope for peace in this world since he would be the result of two rival clans and a powerful ninja for the Senju who would give us a greater edge over our enemies." 'Especially Uchiha' seemed to be tagged at the end of that sentence and, though it went without saying, everyone present got the message and were nodding in agreement.

Hashirama scowled, he knew his brother was really appealing to their hatred for Uchiha and not their love for all men. But his priority was the sparing of Nezumi's life. He was rather surprised that Tobirama was the one speaking up for the child and it showed on his expression; the rising of his brows, the widening of his eyes and the slight slacking of his jaw.

"Then, it is settled." spoke Butsuma Senju in a deep, hoarse voice, his very first words in the whole proceeding. "Uchiha Nezumi will be raised by the Senju clan under the special care of my sons."

* * *

"Again." commanded Tobirama.

"Brother, just a little break." Hashirama pleaded.

"Again!" Tobirama's voice rose and his brows furrowed.

Hashirama sighed.

"It's ok, Hashirama-san!" said Nezumi with a smile, the boy was panting. drawing deep breaths between each word. "I'll be happy to do it again!"

Dressed in only a pair of dark purple pants, Nezumi stood in the middle of the same grassy plain where Hashirama found him, the weather was still as sunny as on that very day, the wind was as quiet and soothing. But Nezumi was no longer withering away due to starvation and fatigue. He was displaying his current level of ninjutsu mastery to a very stern and tasking Tobirama and an encouraging Hashirama, both standing about five meters away from him, adorned in their usual battle armor. The child's hands, which were stronger and less sinewy from two months of healthy living with the Senju clan, swiftly weaved a flurry of hand seals. His chest rose and he drew his head back, his chakra burned and his cheeks swelled, then he lurched forward and spat.

Suiton: Suujinheki!

A great flood of water poured from his lips and surrounded him, before rising into a veritable wall of liquid about two meters high. The wall of water kept steady for about ten seconds and then fell away, the technique caster drawing short breaths and supporting himself with both hands resting on his knees. He was soaked and the grass around him was uprooted in some places and sodden in others as a result of the water that flowed away across the plain.

Hashirama was smiling warmly, his eyes gleaming with pride and joy. He considered Nezumi as a little brother as well as a son. His actual brother Tobirama, however, was unimpressed, or rather if he was, the scowl on his face completely masked it.

Hashirama began, "That was great, Nezu-"

"You need to hold the wall for longer." interrupted Tobirama. " In battle, you may come under a barrage of attacks that can last for nearly half a minute. Also, chances are you'll be casting the technique in unison with other warriors and if you can't put in more chakra, you will become a weak point in the defense. Is that understood?"

Nezumi nodded with a grave expression which one might not expect a ten year old to be capable of. Hashirama was glaring disapprovingly at his younger brother but Tobirama largely ignored him, concentrating his attention of the young Uchiha.

"Brother, you're being too strict. A wall of water at age ten is impressive." complained the dark haired Senju.

"Yes, but we've buried a lot of impressive kids, haven't we? Our own brother included. Now, be quiet." countered Tobirama.

Hashirama sunk his head dejectedly in lugubrious sulking at his brother's words. Tobirama still chose to ignore him.

"Anyways, Nezumi-kun," the younger Senju continued, "practice makes perfect. I expect the next time we meet, your defense will be acceptable."

Nezumi nodded. "I'd like to try it one more time."

"I can sense your chakra." said Tobirama. "You're running low. Nothing good can come of over taxing yourself."

"I know, but one more attempt won't hurt, right?"

Tobirama regarded the boy keenly for a moment. There was something burning in his dark, wide eyes. Then, the Senju took a step back and motioned with one hand for Nezumi for havr another go at it again.

The little boy nodded and went through the seals in perhaps half the time it took him to do so a moment before. This alone had so shocked Hashirama that he lifted his head from his brooding and his jaw sagged. Even Tobirama's eyes had widened a small, negligible fraction, something that went unnoticed, but what came next was even more unexpected: The water which surged from Nezumi's lips rose a good two and a half meters high and the towering defense held for very nearly a full minute!

When the technique crumbled away, there was a tremendous distance between Hashirama's lower jaw and his upper one, leaving his mouth utterly gaping, while Tobirama's brows had risen quite high on his face. Nezumi was soaked in water and sweat, he was completely out of breath and thus staggered precariously. The boy swooned and tottered for a moment before his feet finally gave way under him and he fell, luckily, into the waiting arms of Tobirama Senju, who had positioned himself for the catch via a speedy use of the Shunshin no jutsu. If only the little boy's lids had fallen over his eyes a moment later, and if his consciousness had lingered a while longer, he might have heard when Tobirama smiled and uttered, in a soft voice, the words, "You did good."

It was only after a good night's rest that Nezumi was able to stand firmly on his two feet, such was the exhaustion that came upon him after the impressive display of ninjutsu. But, he had shown in that moment, on that bright sunny day, that he had something which Hashirama would later come to know as a 'Will of Fire.'

* * *

On another bright sunny day, Hashirama was pacing the front yard of his home with a grim and anxious expression on his face, eyes facing the floor in deep thought and his two hands clasped behind his back. A few yards behind him, reposing full-length in a long wooden bench, shaded from the sun by the patch of roof hanging over the veranda, was Tobirama. A tooth pick danced between his teeth, his messy hair covered his eyes, which were shut, while two legs were crossed in front of him on the railing of the corridor and his fingers interlocked at the back of his head.

The house was quite large and august, as one would expect from the residence of the Senju leader and his two sons. There was a garden on the grounds which hosted a stone fountain between its well trimmed hedges and trees. The rapping of a shishiodoshi sounded in its ever constant rhythm in tandem with the warm chirping of the birds nested in the boughs of the trees, providing the only sounds in the compound, while Hashirama paced and Tobirama laid silent.

"Stop it." Tobirama said at length, his eyes still closed as if asleep.

Hashirama paused in his trotting about and turned to his brother, "What?"

"Stop pacing. It's annoying." replied Tobirama, still maintain his lazy position. "He'll come back."

"We have no assurance that Nezumi will return from the mission, brother!" cried Hashirama in a nervous voice. "He could...he could go the same way as Itama!"

"I trained Nezumi. He'll make it back. He can't die on his very first assignment."

"It could happen! Why, there was Torii's kid, Kubo, I think his name was. He died on his first assignment. The corpse was unrecognizable! And there was also, yeah, Maki's daughter! She-"

"I'm in no mood for you foolish babbling, Hashirama. I can sense the chakra of the team-they just passed through the front gates of the Senju quarters."

"They're back!?" Hashirama shrieked in surprise.

"Yes." muttered Tobirama.

The elder Senju immediately bounded away, leaping hurriedly and frantically towards the entrance of the Senju territory. In his wild abandon and deep anxiety, he neglected to ask his little brother to check if Nezumi's chakra signature was amongst them, even neglecting to do so himself-as he was also able to sense chakra though not as well as Tobirama. Such was the worry and impatience that tugged at his heart and shattered the equanimity of his mind.

Leaping over several houses, he finally arrived at his target; a small group of armored Senju who were trudging onward wearily from their assignment. He could see blood stained bandages, men supported by the shoulders of their fellows and even one individual unconscious and laid on a stretcher which was borne by two Senju at both ends. Hashirama's worry was effectually elevated to horror at the sight.

"Nezumi! Nezumi!" he began to scream as he approached. His face had paled, his eyes were swollen and projecting and his chest seemed to sink and deflate under the effect of some heavy blow. "Nezumi! Nezu-"

Hashirama Senju, perhaps the strongest shinobi of his clan at that time, was, in this instance of emotional distress, most embarrassingly caught unawares by his sudden collision with something of moderate, if not light weight, which was adorned with Senju armor. The assaulting object tackled him to the ground and he laid there disconcerted for a moment.

"Hashirama-san!"

The Senju was roused from this senseless state by that elated greeting and, finally finding his bearings, cast his eyes upon his attacker, who was none other than Nezumi. The boy was adorned in slightly battered armor and his face was somewhat begrimed, but the sun behind him had brightened his worn features, giving his skin a more pleasant hue, and there was a wide and silly grin stretched across his face.

"I made it back, Hashirama-san!" the child announced joyfully.

"Nezumi!" cried Hashirama pulling the boy into a hug so tight that he was left gasping for air.

It is at this heartfelt reunion of loved ones that this chapter comes to an end.

To Be Continued


	3. Chapter 3

Hashirama alighted from bed, which was an old and worn sleeping bag he managed squeezed himself into under the cover of a small tent. The pavilion barely had enough room to accommodate his imposing frame and the small bag which contained his belongings.

He crawled out of his shelter and squinted as the blazing sunlight overhead befell his dark eyes. Tobirama was nearby, seated in a meditative pose atop a craggy slab of rock, his back turned to Hashirama.

The two brothers, along with twenty other Senju, had just completed a mission which featured a rather dreadful battle with the ruthless Uchiha clan, and were on their way back home. After a full day's journey, they stopped to rest for the night. The Senju brothers agreed to watch duty and took it in shifts. Hashirama had gone first and, after he went to bed at about 3AM, Tobirama took over and remained on watch until dawn.

While the bulk of the troops had set up camp in the comfy grassy plains, the siblings pitched their tent atop a towering rock formation nearby. This was per Tobirama's suggestion, as it gave them the 'high ground' in case of an attack. Their lofty perch was rather rude and jagged and only provided agony and discomfort for their backs when they laid down to sleep. This was why Hashirama woke up with sharp pains at his sides and proceeded to glare murderously at his little brother who had suggested the venue.

Tobirama, perhaps sensing his brother's glowering, turned to his dark-haired elder and matched his gaze with one of indifference. "I see you're awake, brother. Pack up, we're leaving."

"So soon?" asked Hashirama, yawning widely as he stretched his muscular arms, his tanned skin gleaming in the sunlight (he was shirtless, sporting only a pair of pants).

"Yes. It's almost noon. You overslept. I'm already set." said the younger Senju, who was adorned in his usual blue armor, his sword sheathed at his obi and his traveling bag hanging from his shoulder. "I had a mind to kick you out of bed but, considering how long your battle with Madara was, I felt it best for your health if you were allowed a few more hours." said Tobirama, his face still a stern, unsympathetic mask of steel despite the caring nature of his words.

Hashirama smiled. "Didn't know you cared so much."

"Just get dressed."

"Don't be in such a hurry, brother." whined Hashirama.

"I'm sorry. I thought you would want to hurry back to Nezumi as his birthday comes up tomorrow." said Tobirama. The younger Senju then leaped off their elevated perch, landing on the grassy plain below, where the rest of the squad had already gathered up their tents and belongings and were scattered across the grass, their armored plates gleaming in the sunlight as they waited for Hashirama to get ready.

Upon hearing about his young Uchiha charge, the sleep faded from Hashirama's eyes, newly found strength surged his muscles and immediately, he headed off to the nearby stream to bathe.

Hashirama was ready in ten minutes and they set off without delay. Their whole journey took two hours, during which Hashirama leaped forward at the helm of the troop, his strides quick and agile and his face aglow with excitement. Tobirama had become somewhat fond of Nezumi during his nine-month stay with their clan and though the white-haired Senju also considered the child's birthday a warm and happy occasion, he was not nearly as ecstatic as his elder brother. This was why he bounded homeward, a small distance behind Hashirama, at a more gentle pace.

When they arrived at the Senju quarters sometime in the afternoon, the team stopped to catch their breath, as well as exchange greetings with the sentries positioned there. The guards were always curious to hear the riveting details of battles fought by returning warriors, so a few of the younger, more excitable shinobi stopped at this junction to regale them with stories of encounters with the Uchiha over warm cups of sake procured by their listeners. The more seasoned fighters, whose hands had been stained with more blood than they cared to remember, had outgrown the practice of talking about war as if it were something pleasant, hurrying home to their families after a simple word or two.

The Senju brothers hadn't stopped at all. Hashirama simply leaped over the entrance gates, paying not the slightest bit of attention to the guards who thundered greetings and praises at him for his valor, strength, and the success of the assignment. This was rather strange of him as he was always willing to stay and indulge them. Tobirama also did the same. For him, that was normal. While Hashirama was rather fond of chatting with his kinsmen and enjoying their company, his younger brother was more reclusive and only engaged in activities that had a direct or indirect correlation with the progress and prosperity of the clan. For him, an active social life did not fit the description. This led to some disdain from his fellows, but he could hardly be bothered with their opinions; after all, they did not have the privilege to sit in at the meetings of the Senju top brass.

Soon, the brothers arrived at their home. Still in exceedingly high spirits, Hashirama darted first into the massive building, shrieking Nezumi's name at the top of his lungs, while Tobirama strolled in placidly and went first to their father's quarters to offer a greeting and inform him of their return. After a few seconds of shouting and hollering with no reply forthcoming from his young charge, Hashirama stopped one of the maids-a brown haired teenage servant who was rather fond of the young Uchiha and had developed a sibling-like bond with the boy-to inquire the child's whereabouts.

"Aya-chan! Where is Nezumi?" asked Hashirama. "Did he go to the stream to practice stone skipping? That kid just doesn't have the talent for it!"-here Hashirama chuckled-"he just CANNOT get it to the other side, and it's been months! I mean, it's like a disability..."

The Senju rambled on for about two minutes straight before he remembered exactly why he was talking, "...anyways, where is  
the little rascal?"

If Hashirama had not been so over the moon with enthusiasm and glee, if he wasn't in such a jovial and jocund mood, if he hadn't been rambling like an idiot, perhaps he might have noticed the doleful look on the young lady's face as he assaulted her with his chattering. There was no smile on her face at the mention of the child, her skin was pale and sickly, her eyes were sunken and dull, her hair was somewhat haggard, and her whole mood and manner was one of gloom. The Senju only began to realise these things when she remained perfectly silent at his question. "Aya-chan? What's wrong?" Hashirama asked, his expression now worried. "Are you ok?"

The girl's lower lip began to quiver and her eyes widened. She wrapped her hands about herself and leaned against the paper wall on her right, slowly sinking to the matted floor. Hashirama quickly became more and more concerned and he knelt down beside her. Immediately, she let out a loud shriek, laden with deep sadness and anguish, and tears began to stream down her soft, white cheeks. "Nezumi-kun..." she mumbled in a low, cracked whisper.

"What happened, Aya?" Hashirama's expression was now grave; jaw set, eyebrows drawn, and lips straight and taut. "Tell me!" he growled.

"Nezu..." she broke off and sobbed uncontrollably.

Hashirama held both her shoulders and shook her weak, trembling frame, perhaps a little too violently as he cried, "TELL ME, AYA!"

"NEZUMI-KUN IS DEAD!"

She threw herself against Hashirama and wept bitterly into his shoulder, her entire body shaking and trembling with sobs. Hashirama gently wrapped his hands around her as she wailed. The two remained there on the floor for the longest time, Hashirama doing his best to comfort the young lady while trying to hold back his own sadness.

"How...how could this have happened?" he asked aloud, his voice trembling and soft. Tobirama joined them a moment later and when Hashirama lifted up his eyes to look upon his brother, he noted the dark and somber expression on his face, realizing that he knew as well.

"Father just informed me." said Tobirama, his voice as steady and even as always, but with an undertone of woe. Aya cried harder and her misery echoed off the walls of the Senju residence.


	4. Chapter 4

Nezumi had died just the day before the Senju brothers arrived. Aya had pleaded with their father that his body be preserved till the two siblings came back home, so that they might bury him in a dignified manner. The rest of the clan wanted to simply make a hole in the ground, shove his innocent corpse in, and cover it up with sand; no coffin, no mourning. However, Butsuma Senju, whose heart seemed to have softened over the years, as his head grew hoary and his eyes dimmed, was in favor of the girl, and arranged that Nezumi's body be, at least, preserved in a scroll until Hashirama and Tobirama came to bury him.

Hashirama was showed to said scroll, and he unsealed it, revealing the limp, lifeless little boy-or rather his shell, for the joy, happiness and wonder that was Nezumi, had gone into oblivion. The Senju dropped to his knees and bewailed his loss, Tobirama trying to comfort him with little success. After Hashirama had devoted thirty minutes to tears, he resolved that the burial should be done quickly, before another mission were assigned to them. Tobirama agreed on this and Hashirama thus set about to make the preparations.

However, Tobirama suspected foul play. He questioned Aya as to the circumstances surrounding Nezumi's death and discovered that he simply 'took ill' and died the next day. Aya informed him that medics were called and drugs were given but there was no improvement, and all she could do was make him comfortable(there was a great deal of sobbing as she delivered this report) Tobirama sought the intricate details of Nezumi's symptoms, all of which she described to him as only fever, coughing and headaches.

The younger Senju retreated to his study, poring over scroll after scroll with intense concentration. By sunset, he emerged from said chamber and proceeded to their father's quarters. Tobirama passed Hashirama in a corridor, noting the downcast and mournful look in his eyes-which were red as blood, as a result of his crying. Hashirama informed his brother that he had crafted a beautiful coffin as best he could with his Mokuton. Tobirama responded by imploring him to wait before he buried the child, stepping in to see their father a moment after.

Once inside Butsuma's chambers, the silver-haired Senju sank to one knee and lowered his head in a respectful greeting. Butsuma was thin and spare, a form he hid behind a voluminous garb. His hair was the same color as Tobirama's but his was due to age and not genetics. His face was fraught with deep wrinkles, his eyes were sunken and they twinkled warmly at his progeny.

"What is it my son?" the old man questioned.

"I would like to call a whole clan meeting." replied Tobirama.

"To what effect?"

"To discover," replied the young Senju, " the one who killed Nezumi. I'm convinced that this was murder. "

The whole Senju; more than three hundred shinobi, old and young, man and woman, were gathered in front of the their leader's house. They were murmurs and whispers amongst them as they waited right outside the gates. It was very rare that the whole clan met like this. The occasion usually involved impending all out war with another clan, or meting out of judgement to a one who had committed some heinous crime. The last instance of the latter, one of them had turned traitor and became a spy for the Akuchi clan, and he was stoned to death by the whole clan on a cool evening such as this.

The sun was halfway beneath the horizon and the sky was a coalition of gold, orange and red. Tobirama appeared and was walking up to them, his father on his right, wearing a serene expression, and Hashirama on his left, glaring murder. The two brothers were dressed in their armour, with a sword at Tobirama's waist, while their father wore a white kimono. The arrival of these three silenced everyone present.

"Nezumi Uchiha, our young charge and a comrade of the Senju, is dead," said Tobirama, "and one of you killed him."

The whole clan gasped in unison.

"I am convinced it is true." said the white-haired Senju. "I've discovered the exact poison used to finish the job. It is one of Hashirama's special concoctions which he taught to our clan medics. A unique poison that masks death with sickness of the most commonplace symptoms. One would consider it a small trifle, administer simple drugs and expect improvement." Tobirama took out a small vial with a colorless liquid inside, raising it above his head so that all might see it. "It has no color, it has no odour, and three drops are all that is needed to seal one's fate."

Tobirama continued. "I'm a little disappointed that none of our clan's medics could see through this ruse. I guess they must not have put too much effort in trying to treat Nezumi. It's no secret that all of you hated the young boy and one of you has killed him. If Hashirama were here, he would have seen through this in an instant." said Tobirama, replacing the vial into his pouch and folding his hands.

"Now, would the murderer please step forward." said Butsuma Senju.

There was silence. They began glancing furtively at one another and perspiration broke out of the foreheads of some-particularly the medics.

"Do you think you can hide from the hand of justice?" asked Tobirama. "Do not force me to identify you myself."

"How dare you!" cried one of the Senju present. "You accuse your own blood because of that clan of beasts! If one of us did kill that whelp Nezumi, then he did the whole clan a favour. That boy-"

That was as far as he got before Hashirama's fingers closed around his throat and hoisted him off the ground. The unruly man thrashed about in Hashirama's iron grip-his eyes projecting out of their sockets and face losing color by the second-to no avail. Hashirama squeezed tighter and tighter on his neck, and would have crushed his throat completelywere it not for Tobirama's intervention.

"Stop, Hashirama." said the white haired Senju, arms still folded. Hashirama threw the man to the ground and returned to his brother's side. "Besides, he's not the killer." added Tobirama

"Then who is?" asked the man, still massaging his throat.

Tobirama vanished from sight, reappearing amongst the gathered Senju, his sword drawn and the blade pressed against the thin neck of one of them, an old man in green armor with squinted dark eyes; the same one who spoke up against Nezumi's adoption at the clan elders gathering a year prior. "It was you, Senju Goemon-sama." said the white haired Senju. Goemon

The old man looked down on the ground and saw a technique marking inscribed on a pebble in front him. The kanji was also carved into several small stones in around them all. "So, you've marked the immediate vicinity with your Flying Thunder God technique."

"I can't have you running away now, can I?" Tobirama responded.

Goemon chuckled. "How exactly do you hope to prove this?"

"Did you not do it?" asked Tobirama.

Goemon began, "Why would I-"

"Liar." said Tobirama. "I can sense it. Your deceit is disturbing your chakra."

"You have no proof other than this? I know you are a gifted sensor but-"

"All that's needed is truth serum," said Hashirama, "and I brew the best."

"True." returned the old man with a sigh. "I guess the game is up." and then he dispelled into smoke.

"Shadow clone!" cried Tobirama. "Fooled me with my own jutsu!" The Senju shut his eyes in concentration, increasing his inner perception of chakra. He waded through the diverse signatures around him, widening his sensory radius by meters, then kilometers, crossing the mountains, spanning the forests, examining the streams, searching earnestly for Goemon.

"Twenty kilometers away! He's fleeing!" said Tobirama after a moment. "Hashirama, let's go after him now!"

Hashirama nodded and Tobirama began to lead the way, leaving a shocked group of Senju in their wake.

* * *

By nightfall, they had returned with the old man, who was severely battered when they arrived at the Senju quarters. His head was bleeding, his armour was missing almost all the platings, he had lost one eye, and on top of this, Hashirama was literally dragging his bony frame over the craggy ground. Another meeting was called in front of the Senju residence. Tobirama and Hashirama stood on both sides of their father, and Goemon sat, groaning, more dead than alive, in front of the family trio.

"We have a traitor in our midst, and it wasn't even the Uchiha who dwelt amongst us." said Butsuma. "I grew up with Goemon and I must say I never expected such a shameful act from a man like him. He threw off his helmet of dignity, his breastplate of honour, and now the arrows of shame and disgrace have pierced him. A curse be upon his head! Let this be a lesson to all of you. Now, I will allow Hashirama to determine his punishment, and you will all accept it."

Hashirama cleared his throat. "I am usually more inclined to mercy than justice when dealing with a man, but a crime so heinous as the cold-blooded murder of a child, makes Goemon-sama no longer a man in my eyes. When Nezumi was to be adopted, I spoke about the Senju's philosophy of love. It is clear that this animal"-he looked down on Goemon with scornful eyes-"is no Senju as well, for only bitterness and hatred lurk in his heart. He is not my kin, he is not a man, and so he must die."

There was a complete silence as Hashirama said this. All kept their eyes fixed on him, with expressions of shock and fear written on their faces.

"I will show him a little mercy." said Hashirama. "His death will be slow, so that he might perhaps consider the evil of his actions and show remorse like a man, like a Senju. I have crafted a coffin for Nezumi's burial, Goemon-sama will be chained to the gravestone in front Nezumi's resting place until he dies of hunger and thirst. His last sight will be the name of his innocent victim carved in rock, and he will regret his foolishness."

"So it shall be done." said Butsuma Senju gravely.

* * *

Two days passed and it was nightfall. A half moon gleamed in this sky, showering the Senju quarters with its dull rays. The distant melody of crickets filled the air, interposed with the hooting of owls. All had gone to sleep save for the guards stationed at the entrance. There were two of them standing in front of the main gate, alert for any sign of danger. One of them, garbed in grey armor, perceived an approaching chakra signature, and raised his guard. He relaxed in the next moment, when he realised it was just Hashirama and Tobirama.

They were dressed in simple, black yukatas as they approached the entrance. Greeting the guards with a nod, they leaped over the gates and proceeding onwards into the woods. After about ten minutes of walking through the trees, leaves crunching beneath their feet, fireflies twinkling in the air, sharp beams of moonlight penetrating the canopy of trees above and playing on their tresses and faces, they reached a clearing. This clearing was their destination; it was where the Senju buried their dead.

There were many rows of graves marked by headstones which laid flat on the ground, a testament to the great bloodshed that characterized their lives as ninja. In the far end of the clearing, there was a man dressed in rags who appeared to be kneeling in front of a grave, paying his respects. The two brothers approached this man. It was Goemon, he was not kneeling but his two hands were chained to the grave, thus forcing him to crouch, and he had been that way for two days.

Goemon was looking terrible, his skin was sallow and pale, his face was very gaunt and bony, his lips were cracked and dry with thirst, his hair was wild and beast-like as it streamed over his wrinkled face, his hands were more bone than sinews and every difficult breath seemed to be his last. He was wide awake and upon seeing both brothers walk up to him, he mustered up strength to glare at them with immense hatred gleaming in his squinted right eye-for the left one was gone . "You..." he managed to mutter, but could say no more.

"Are you now ashamed of your actions?" asked Tobirama.

"I..." whispered the old man, "I...hate Uchi.." he muttered, but could find no strength to finish his sentence. Its meaning was, however, clear.

"Then, the little bit of hope I had for you is gone." said Hashirama, shaking his head pitifully. "You have suffered much, as you rightly deserve, but I am not a wicked man. Put him out of his misery, Tobirama." the Senju added as he placed his palm on the chains wrapping Goemon's hand, which were made of iron and strengthened by a sealing technique. The sealing formula vanished from the restraints at Hashirama's touch, and the bindings fell off the old man's hands. Goemon simply collapsed on the ground in severe exhaustion after he was freed, still gazing at the brothers, but with a quizzical look.

Tobirama extracted something from his pouch which appeared to be locks of hair. He threw them on the ground, weaved certain hand seals and slammed his palm on the earth. A technique formula appeared on the ground, creating a circle around the hair, which was connected, by some complex designs, to a similar circle around Goemon. In an instant, dust and dirt rose from the ground and began to wrap the old man's prone frame. They were evidently causing him great pain for he bellowed a great agonised cry, which ceased abruptly when he was completely covered by the strange materials. Goemon was gone and standing before them was young Nezumi, garbed in the white robe in which he was buried-the right side of the robe crossed over the left, as is customary for the dead-with pallid skin marked with cracks here and there, and his sclera dark in color.

"Hello, Nezumi." greeted Hashirama with a sad smile.

The young boy looked confused. He brought his hands close to his face, examining the paleness of his skin and the dark streaks that marred it, then understood. "Tobirama-san's Edo Tensei. So I really did die..."

"Hashirama requested that I bring you back." said Tobirama, whose hands were now folded, his expression placid as always.

"We still haven't celebrated your birthday!" declared Hashirama in his usual jovial manner. Nezumi chuckled while Tobirama sighed.

"That is true." said the young boy with a grin. "So, what do you have in mind?"

"Well, it's too late at night to go gambling at Tanzaku," replied Hashirama with a sad pout, "but we can perfect your stone skipping!" he added with a wink as he recovered his smile.

The trio located a stream and Hashirama and Nezumi chucked stones at the water, Tobirama leaning against a tree close by and watching them in his stoic manner. Hashirama's shots invariably skid over the water and reached the other side, Nezumi's always fell with a plunk into the pool. Hashirama laughed, Nezumi laughed. After about an hour, Nezumi's pebble reached the other side and they celebrated. The brothers and the young boy proceeded to a nearby meadow, where they sat and talked and laughed-'they' meaning Hashirama and Nezumi. Tobirama found an ideal spot on the ground to make himself comfortable as he gazed at them with an apathetic disposition. He was never really one for merry making.

Hashirama told Nezumi about his crush on Mito of the Uzumaki clan. Nezumi commented that she would be lucky to have him. Nezumi asked how Aya was, Hashirama told him she was sad. Nezumi became quite melancholy at this, but Hashirama cheered him up by showing him various ninjutsu techniques. They played, they even sang a bit, and Tobirama watched in silence.

By and by, the night dragged on, and so did their simple fun, and Tobirama's lack of participation, until the dawn was on the horizon. They proceeded back to the grave site and all three stood in front of the boy's headstone.

"Must feel weird looking at your own grave, huh?" asked Hashirama.

"Yeah." assented Nezumi with a morose look on his face.

"It's time for you to go." said Tobirama.

Nezumi nodded. "I'll miss the both of you."

"We'll miss you too." said Hashirama, his eyes glossed with tears.

Nezumi fell in front of his grave and began to sob, Hashirama collapsed beside him and the two of them cried their eyes out together, trying to comfort one another but only increasing their sadness. Tobirama knelt beside both and patted their backs gently, trying to ease their pain. There was a sad and forlorn look in his crimson eyes, which suggested that he felt something of their anguish as well. After a few minutes, Tobirama stood to his feet and began to weave certain seals. A bright light surrounded Nezumi's body and shot up into the sky as the boy's whole frame began to crumble and break.

"One request," said Nezumi as he slowly ceased to be, "don't join me any time soon." and he smiled a goofy smile. Tobirama stepped forward, placed his hand on the boy's head and ruffled his hair, their eyes locked and glowing with emotion. In this instant, Tobirama abandoned his indifferent visage and smiled a bittersweet smile just before the light vanished, and only Goemon's corpse was left in a heap of dust and ashes.

The End.


End file.
